Dreamstate
by Rhythmic5
Summary: Legend foretold that she would be returned to Middle Earth when she came of age. It also said she would be hunted, and she would serve a greater purpose than her own. But legends don't always seem clear. Legolas/OC. Give the prologue a try.
1. Chapter 1

Alright, so I know this has most likely been done before. I just had a wild hair and had to go with it. I'm no Tolkien expert and I won't pretend to be. I will be taking a lot of liberties as an author and hopefully you guys will appreciate them. If you don't, then don't read it. If you read it and decide it's just too out there or inaccurate then by all means, don't let me waste anymore of your time. I just got the idea and thought I might as well share it because chances are, there is somebody out there who will like it.

By writing this, it does not mean i've given up on my Chronicles of Narnia fics. I've just kind of taken a break from those, because I'm trying to figure out how to get to where I want to go. I know what I want to happen with them, it's just getting there that's giving me problems. Along with this I've come up with ideas for a Harry Potter fic and a Pride and Prejudice fic. I've gotten the furthest on this one and decided to go ahead and post the first bit of it to see if it gets any bites.

In this story, Boromir and Faramir have a sister. Yes, like I said....liberties. It might be kinda confusing as to how and when she is actually in Middle Earth...it's kind of a 'girl falls into Middle Earth' thing but at the same time not. You'll have to see. If it throws you off too much, just message me or something...I would be glad to try to explain it a little better.

Anyways, it's time for the average disclaimer. I don't own anything Tolkien came up with. I only own the names and places you don't recognize.

So here it goes. Hope you enjoy it. Please review and let me know either way, so I know whether to post the next chapter or not.

* * *

Dreamstate

Prologue

Some twenty or so years ago…

A woman lied in the bed prepared for her, screaming and crying, though not at her attendants. The midwife knelt at the end of the table, coaching her as best she could through labor. "My lady, I can see the head! Now just give it one more good push!" she coached the woman, as one of the lady's female attendants stood at her side, holding her hand. With one last push the woman screamed at the top of her lungs, which was met by a soft cry.

"Well done, my lady, well done," the midwife soothed as she gathered the baby in a cloth while her assistant cut the umbilical cord. She then wrapped the cloth around the newborn and walked to the bedside, gently handing her to the exhausted mother. "Here, here's your baby girl, my lady," the midwife bowed her head as she released the child into the waiting arms of her mother and stepped back so her assistant could give her the first child born that night. The attendants halted their cleaning of the area long enough to see the mother's first look at her children.

"Oh, they are beautiful," her proud voice shook with pure happiness. The midwife and the attendants all smiled and sighed, one or two of them wiping their eyes. "Please, bring my husband in so he may see them."

An attendant stepped outside the room into the partially lit corridor where Lord Denethor stood, looking out a window that gave him a full view of the city. "My lord, you have a daughter and a son. Lady Finduilas requests that you come and see them," the attendant said with a curtsy. Lord Denethor turned and looked at her with confusion in his eyes.

"A daughter and a son? There are two?" he asked.

"Yes, my lord. Your wife bore twins."

Immeasurable relief etched across his face before he hurried past her. He reached his wife's side and kissed her eagerly before looking down at the softly wailing babes in her arms.

"My love, look at the twin babies we've been blessed with," his wife cried softly, watching her husband's initial expression at the first sight of his newborn children. The exhilaration and love in his features brought fresh tears to her eyes as he looked at his daughter. He touched her forehead very gently, drawing his thumb down her tiny nose and smiling when her crying lessened at his touch. He looked then to his son and did the same.

"Blessed, we are indeed, my love," he said, not being able to stop his own tears as they rolled down his face. He kissed his wife again, thanking the higher powers for their gift. "What will we name them?" he asked her, not tearing his eyes from the beautiful new additions to their family.

"We shall name Boromir's new brother Faramir," his wife said, smiling at the boy. "Faramir," she cooed to him. "What should we name her," she asked her husband, looking then to the girl in her arms.

Lord Denethor studied the soft cherubic features of his only daughter and thought. "Alodia," he breathed over the small girl's forehead.

* * *

Five years later…

Denethor stood over the small bed on which Alodia slept. On a small bed not but a few feet away slept her brother, Faramir. He looked at his small son, watching the slow rising and falling of his tiny chest as he breathed. He would have smiled had a permanent frown not been set on his mouth. He looked back down at the small girl softly snoring below him. Her auburn ringlets were fanned on her pillow behind her face, with one sprawled across her forehead. She lied on her side with a small stuffed doll curled in her arms. She looked so precious to him, but he shook those thoughts out of his mind. No child like this could be precious.

Strange happenings had been turning up as of late. Things were happening around Alodia that no one could explain. They were things that a five-year-old child should not be capable of, and things that no mortal being could accomplish. Yet, these things were occurring, and only around Alodia. The townspeople were beginning to talk, and doubts were rising. And when doubt lives, fear is born.

Denethor did not want to listen to the abhorrent rumors regarding his daughter. When hearing many of them he would simply laugh, knowing that no mortal child could achieve such things. But then he himself began to worry. He himself began to witness strange things when around his little girl. Denethor began to fear his daughter.

He was afraid young Alodia was a witch.

But how she could have been, he was none the wiser. There was no history of witchcraft or dark arts in his lineage, nor his wife's that he knew of, and he could not see how his daughter could have inherited such a trait. And then the darkest theory of all entered his mind. His wife had bedded another. She had conceived with another.

Alodia, his only daughter, was not his child.

With this conclusion, he stormed from the room, luckily not waking the children. He found his wife in their bedchamber and closed the door loudly behind him, startling her.

"Oh, my love, it is only you," she exhaled, clutching her chest. Her face fell at his expression and she began to worry. "What is wrong?" she asked at seeing the dark look on his face.

"Who is he?" he asked her calmly. Hearing the calmness in his voice frightened her as it did not match the expression on his face.

"Who is who, dear?" she asked, trying to smile.

He took three heavy steps towards her, this time shouting, "WHO IS HE?"

She took three steps back, landing herself against the wall in her fright. "I know not what you're talking about. You're not making any sense," she kept herself calm, even though it was difficult.

He threw his hands forward and pushed her roughly against the wall, not caring if he harmed her. He was so sure that she had been unfaithful to him, and did not care if he hurt her or not. "Who is Alodia's and Faramir's father," Denethor said more than asked in a dangerously low voice as he closed the distance between himself and her.

His wife's eyes widened and she paled. "What?"

"YOU KNOW OF WHAT I SPEAK!" he shouted, his voice filling the room.

"You are! I have not, and could never be with any other but you!" she cried, feeling tears welling up with the accusation.

"YOU LIE!" He shouted again, pinning his arms on either side of her and looking at her. He was more furious than he had ever been. No, fury could not do justice to what he felt. He felt fire burning within himself, and felt as though he would burst at any moment.

His wife stood, trying to be strong but failing. She was trembling roughly, crying out loud, and wondering what in the world could have brought this about. She had never seen her love so angry, and most definitely had never seen him so angry with her! She thought of what he had accused her of and felt new tears pour down her cheeks. Looking into his eyes, which had darkened dangerously, she swallowed and prayed.

"I have never been with anyone other than you. Faramir and Alodia are your children, just as Boromir is. If you cannot see that yourself, then you are a madman," she said softly before pushing her hands against him, hoping he would step away. Fortunately he did, and she ran out of the room, racing straight for her children's rooms.

* * *

A few months later…

Lightning streaked across the indigo sky as more thunder rolled. Denethor stood on his balcony, searching for the silhouettes of the clouds as they were illuminated by each flash. His door behind him creaked open and he turned sharply to see young Boromir standing there, doing his best to hold his little brother in his arms.

"Father, we can't sleep," he said, trying to steady his voice. Lord Denethor grunted and turned back to the view outside as Boromir staggered, under the weight of his little brother, to the bed where his mother sat up, reading a small book by candlelight. When she saw her sons, she set her book on the bedside table and opened her arms. "Boys, come here. There's no reason to fear the storm. It is only rain," she coaxed them, brushing their hair back from their foreheads. "Where is your sister?" she asked Boromir, even though she knew why she hadn't come with them.

"She's sleeping. The thunder and lighting don't scare her," the boy said, hugging his knees as another crack of thunder echoed in the room, though he pretended to not let it bother him. His mother looked up questioningly as Denethor stomped from the room and down the hall.

He walked into the room Faramir and Alodia shared, striding straight to her bed. He looked down at the sleeping form of his daughter, and growled when he saw that she hadn't even stirred at the sound of thunder. It was this…_magic_…in her that kept her from being disturbed by it.

"God, forgive me, but this evil cannot live," he said to himself before picking up the pillow from Faramir's bed and lifting it over his daughter. At that time Finduilas walked in, and ran to his side when she saw what he was about to do.

"NOOO!" she cried as she grabbed for the pillow where it was in midair. Denethor roughly shoved her away and she landed on the floor with a sickening crack. He then turned back and covered Alodia's head with the pillow. He felt her head move beneath the pillow and heard a muffled cry.

_Don't do this. Please, Papa, don't._

He shook the voice out of his head. She was speaking in his mind! His witch of a daughter was speaking in his mind! He put all his weight on the pillow, hoping to suffocate her faster.

His wife forced herself up from the floor, despite the throbbing pain she felt in her arm. She threw herself at her husband, wrapping her hands around his neck, willing to do anything to get him away from their daughter. But once again he shoved her away. She hit the wall this time and felt the wind knocked from her lungs, but pulled out the knife she had tucked away in her nightgown and ran forward, ready to stab him anywhere she could. Denethor saw her shadow against the wall and turned, catching her wrist and turning the knife on her. When his pressure had left the pillow, little Alodia pulled it off with all the strength she had and sat up in bed, watching her parents with horror.

"You would stop me. You would let this evil live!" He yelled, yanking the knife from her hand and holding it against her throat.

She didn't say anything to him, she just thought and thought of any way to get free of the madman who had consumed her husband's body. That dark, dangerous look had overtaken him again, and she could not recognize him at all. Without thinking, she lifted her knee and knocked him right in the groin, jumping aside when he doubled over. She scooped Alodia up in her arms and raced to her room, deadbolting the door behind her. Boromir and Faramir had fallen asleep in her bed and she thanked the every power above, but then wondered what she must do. She prayed, knowing she would do anything to protect her daughter. She looked down at her sleeping sons, knowing their father would never harm them. But Alodia was not safe.

The door behind her began to rattle, and she jumped back with a scream. He was trying to break down the door! She looked down at Alodia and seeing that she was awake, placed her on the bed behind her. She threw up her fists, having nothing else to defend herself with as the door flew open and her husband stumbled in.

"WHERE IS SHE!" He shouted at her, holding his sword in hand. Her eyes widened at seeing it, and opened her arms to guard her children as she could do nothing else.

"You won't harm her," was the last thing she said before he ran his sword through her. But no sooner did she fall to her knees, that a bright light engulfed the room and Denethor was blown off his feet, landing against the wall on the other side of the room. When he looked up, shielding his eyes from the light, he could see nothing but a figure obscured by the pure white light. He squinted through his fingers, trying to make out the figure, and then suddenly his eyes flew open.


	2. Chapter 2

A Not-So-Alcohol-Induced Dream

"Sara."

I rolled over onto my side in my sleep. I had heard a voice that didn't belong to my roommate.

"Sara," the voice called again. It was a feminine voice, but it was deep. Well, it sounded deep, but at the same time it wasn't.

"Sara."

It was almost throaty, maybe rough. Or was it? It was light and whimsical too, almost. At this point I was just plain confused. Frustrated with hearing my name over and over, I opened my eyes. The dorm room I was sleeping in wasn't dark anymore. The room was filled with bright white light that looked kind of blue in some places. I looked over to where my window should have been, but I couldn't see it because of the bright light. I really wasn't even sure it was there. But it should have been. I held a hand up over my eyes, shielding them from the light.

"Damn, where is that light coming from?" I grumbled. I knew it was late. It had been close to one-thirty in the morning when my friends and I stumbled in from a night out. For being the early morning hours it was definitely too bright in the room.

"Sara," came that crazy deep slash smooth voice again. My head whipped in the direction that it came from, and I squinted my eyes hoping to see the source. But of course it was too friggin bright to see anyone. I would have been concerned that there was a complete stranger in my dorm room, but at this point I wasn't even sure that I was actually in my dorm.

"Do not dwell on loss, child, for you will soon see that for every loss there is a later triumph," the voice said, drawing my attention with every syllable.

"Umm, what loss?" I asked a little less politely than I could have. I wasn't really sure what the voice was referring to…I hadn't really lost anything. Well, okay, other than the ball point pen that I loaned to the weird emo boy with the green faux hawk in my geography class. But you never loan a pen to someone unless you're prepared to lose it.

"Change is coming, and darkness shall fall. Do not let shadow conquer your heart, child, for there will still be hope. Keep your strength and your heart open, for you shall be a symbol of hope for many."

This was just plain bizarre. "What the…" I squinted my eyes again trying to see through the blinding light. But once again, I couldn't see a blasted soul. "Lady, what are you getting at?" I asked with frustration. Expecting another cryptic response, I got nothing instead. I waited for a moment, and still nothing. "It must have been the tequila," I mumbled to myself, remembering the extra shots I took after I knew I should have stopped. I then remembered the little dance number I had done on a pole soon after the last shot and grimaced. The tequila shots were such a bad choice. Thinking that the whole mysterious voice episode may have been a figment of my imagination, I squeezed my eyes together.

And then I woke up.

I looked over at my side to see Brooke's face only a couple of inches away from mine. "What the eff, man?!?" I squeaked, flinging myself against the wall in surprise.

She arched an eyebrow while smirking. "You were talking in your sleep, ya crack head."

I grabbed my neck, trying to calm myself. "Yea, well you've done worse. A couple of nights ago you were cackling in your sleep," I said, trying to make myself feel better. Brooke was a very active sleeper. Sometimes she would be talking randomly in her sleep, other times she would be mumbling incoherently. One night she screamed bloody murder before bursting into song. Yea, I know…it's weird. Imagine how I feel when I wake up at three in the morning to hear it.

"So what did you dream about?" my roommate asked, standing from the chair she had pulled up beside my bed and walking over to the sink. I watched her turn on the sink and grab for her toothbrush while trying to figure just what exactly I had dreamt about. She turned to me, holding her toothbrush and talking with a mouthful of toothpaste. "What, are you still too drunk to remember?" she laughed, sending globs of toothpaste spraying.

"HEY! I just cleaned the floor yesterday!" I yelled, pointing at a single white gob on the floor. She waved a hand at me, dismissing it and muttering a very mushy 'oh, I'll wipe it up'. I shuffled across the cold tile floor to my dresser and pulled out a plain green t-shirt and a pair of jeans and then shuffled to my closet.

"Dude," Brooke said before gargling. I heard her spit in the sink before saying, "what did you dream?"

I pulled my shirt over my head and straightened my jeans before stepping out of the closet. "I really don't know. It was kinda weird."

Brooke walked to her desk and turned on her macbook. "Weird how?" she asked.

"I don't know. This strange voice was telling me not to dwell on my loss and that the world was going to fall under darkness but there was still hope…or something like that," I said dismissively, picking up my hairbrush and running it through my very wild, tangled hair.

Brooke spun around in her chair to face me after typing a message in her chat box. "I told you to go easy on the tequila last night, Sara. But you just didn't listen," she wagged her finger at me in mock scolding.

I was about to say something back when my cell phone started ringing. I slid it open. "Greg, hey! What's up?"

"Wow, you're actually awake before noon on a Saturday," teased the cynical voice of our friend Greg. "Tell me, is Brooke awake also?"

Brooke looked up curiously, wondering who I was talking to. "Yea, she was actually up before I was."

"THE FREAK WAS TALKING IN HER SLEEP!" Brooke yelled in the background.

"Okay, so I don't want to know what that was all about," he said with a strong sense of disinterest. "Anyways, I was asking to see if you two are ready to grab some lunch, because Josh and I are hungry."

Brooke, who had been listening in, nodded her head quickly to show that she was indeed ready. "Yea, you want us to meet you in the dining hall?"

"Yea, we'll be there in ten," Greg said before hanging up.

I looked at the clock on Brooke's desk, which read eleven-twenty-five. Brooke was also eyeing it. "Alright so he said they'll be here in ten minutes, which means they'll really be here in twenty…so let's go down at ten till twelve just so to give them some extra time."

I snorted, knowing she would be right. The boys were late everywhere we went. It took them forever to get ready to go anywhere. We swore that they took longer to get ready than teenage girls. Waiting for the time to pass, we both sat at our desks, checking our facebooks. Finally I heard Brooke sigh. "Whatever, let's just go down. I'm starving…so they can just join us when they get there."

I laughed at her impatience, even though I felt the same way. We grabbed our wallets and walked out the door, making sure it closed completely before making our way down the hall.

***

A man stood on a balcony overlooking the road below. Only hours ago had he entered the city with three hobbits in tow, all weary from travel and concerned for their kinsman who had been sped to Rivendell to seek healing. He had checked in to make sure that the ailing hobbit was being tended to and left assured once he saw Lord Elrond himself seeing to him. Now he was standing alone, reflecting on all that had transpired in the past few days.

The ring of power had been found. It had landed in the hands of a hobbit, one of Middle Earth's most innocent, not to mention oblivious beings. The man sighed looking down at the road below him, wondering how such a large burden could come to such a small person. A scarlet leaf drifted onto his hand which rested on the railing he was leaning against. He looked at it for a moment before picking it up with nimble care only to let it drop through the air. He watched as it landed on the head of an elf maid below, who didn't even notice as she was busy scolding two small boys. A new presence had taken its place on the balcony behind him, but the man paid no mind to it. Whoever it was would make themselves known.

"The Halflings are quite fortunate that you met them in Bree. They would not have made such a perilous journey on their own," said a deep voice behind him.

The man nodded. "I know few who could hide from the Nazgul, if they were indeed being followed by them."

"The Hobbit Frodo could have very easily joined the nine, had my daughter not brought him here in time. I think he and his friends finally see the danger they are in," the source of the deep voice finally came to stand beside the man.

"They have probably never seen the world outside the Shire. Not until now would they understand the danger that is out there," the man said, finally looking at the elf beside him. "When do they arrive?" he asked, his grey eyes leaving the elf's face to flash across the road below.

The elflord clasped his hands and rested them on the railing, looking unseeingly into the sunlit forest just outside the city's walls. "The messengers were sent yesterday evening when it came to my attention that the ring was on its way to Imladris. I expect the guests to begin arriving in a week's time," he replied in a very straightforward manner.

Both were silent for a moment, drinking in the serene atmosphere around them. A breathy breeze blew the man's hair, seemingly waking him from a dream. "The hobbit Frodo, how does he fare?"

"I was able to clean his blood of the poison from the Nazgul blade. He will heal in time." The elf turned to give the man a slow glance. "Anyone else would have perished after having the poison in their blood for half the time he did, Estel. The hobbit has some strength in him."

The man nodded silently, returning his grey gaze to the road below as if awaiting the guests' arrival. Both remained silent as the pregnant breeze blew by them as if trying to feel what it would bring them. Though neither spoke of it, they knew trying times were ahead.

***

The day had faded into night and most of the city had retreated to their homes. Only a few lingered outdoors, either strolling through the moonlit streets of the city or lounging in the city's gardens. Most of the elves in Rivendell were filling their time by reminiscing with friends and loved ones, but this was not the case for the lord who overlooked his city. Elrond sat in his study behind a table scattered across the top with books. Several of the books lied open, some with pieces of parchment with hastily scribbled notes sticking between the pages. A single candle flickered at the center of the table, providing just enough light to give the room a subtle glow, though the elflord didn't need it to read.

No matter how many tomes he sifted through the reading, nothing seemed to provide him with the answer he wanted. He closed his eyes briefly and took in a breath before pushing himself away from the table and moving towards the open window for some fresh air.

"I know what it is that troubles your mind."

The elflord chuckled softly before closing his eyes to better focus on the voice of his wife's mother, whom was contacting him through his mind. "Ah, if only you knew the answer that would bring me some solace."

"You know the answer you seek, my friend. But can you trust yourself enough to accept it?" the voice asked knowingly. After hearing his heavy sigh, she continued. "Twenty years it has been since the stewardess of Gondor fled her home with her daughter. You are as familiar with the prophecy as I. Yesterday was the twentieth birthday of Alodia. It is only a matter of time before the Valar return her to Middle Earth, and then she will be reunited with her family.

Elrond pondered her words as he stared into the darkness. "Will her mother return with her?" he asked, though it mattered little if she did. She would play no part in the task at hand.

"She will not. The stewardess was sent away from this world for her protection, as her home was no longer safe for her. To bring her back to the place she fled from would send her to a premature death. Alodia was also sent away for her protection, but with her ability it is necessary to bring her back. She will be needed in the time to come."

"How can we be sure that she will be safe once she is reunited with her family?"

"Once she meets her brothers, their bond will be reforged. They will not let any harm come to their sister. As for her father, he will not approve of having her so near, as he was the reason for their leaving. As you know, it is because of her ability that her father sent her and her mother away. Even against her father, though, her brothers will protect her. A bond shared between siblings is difficult to break."

Elrond turned his head to see a servant enter the room, but at seeing the look of deep concentration on the elflord's face, the servant turned quickly and left. "And you are sure that she will answer the council summon with her brother?"

"She will, even though both her brothers will try to persuade her differently."

For a moment the voice paused, allowing him a moment to mull over everything she had told him. "When can I expect her and her brother to arrive?"

Lightening the tension of the matter, she laughed softly. "Oh, I can't give you all the answers, my friend. Then there would be no surprises," she paused again. "Don't expect their arrival before a week."

Elrond breathed in deeply as he felt her presence leave his mind. Turning slowly he scanned the room, deciding to call it a night. He circled the table, picking up the books and returning them to their rightful places on the shelves that lined the room. He then began gathering the loose leaves of parchment he had written on and stacked them together. The leaf on top caught his attention and he narrowed his eyes as he read the first line scribbled in his hasty scrawl:

…_a promised one, sent by the Valar._

* * *

A/N

Sorry it has been so long. I'm really busy with school this semester and I would rather make sure I have something decent for you guys to read than just slap something together to post. Hope it was enjoyable. By the way, did anyone see Alice in Wonderland? Johnny Depp was cute as a button. I wanted to stick him in my purse and take him home with me. Anyways, review and let me know what you thought of the chapter. I'll try to get the next chapter up sooner than this one.

Peace,

Rhythmic5


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